


More Than Friends

by BlackTyranitar



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adult Content, Adult Hermione Granger, Adultery, Canon Divergence - Post-Hogwarts, Cheating, Consensual Kink, Cuckolding, Cunnilingus, Exhibitionism, Extramarital Affairs, F/M, Face-Sitting, Fetish, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Hand Jobs, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Love Triangles, Married Couple, Other, Past Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Poly Relationship, Polyandry, Post-Hogwarts, Romance, Ron Weasley is a Good Friend, Shameless Smut, Smut, Threesome - F/M/M, Work sex, blowjob
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-16
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-07 08:22:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21454948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackTyranitar/pseuds/BlackTyranitar
Summary: Ron Weasley discovers that there might have been more to the relationship between his wife Hermione and Harry Potter than he'd realised.Mostly PWP with a little bit of plot to build the setting.
Relationships: Hermione Granger & Harry Potter & Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 27
Kudos: 202





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: if extra-marital sex or the cuckolding fetish offends you, consider yourself warned. This is your opportunity to back out now. 
> 
> For everyone else, this is my first fic on AO3! I hope you will enjoy my contribution, and happy reading!

**Chapter 1**

It was an incredible party, truth be told. Ron hadn’t felt this buzzed since the mother of all parties they’d had after the fall of Voldemort four years ago. He and Harry had been the guests of honour at the party, to celebrate their qualification as full-time Aurors at the Ministry.

  
After Voldemort’s fall, Harry had been swamped by the enormous increase to his fame and the responsibilities that had been thrust upon him, from tracking down the fleeing remainder of the Death Eaters, the arrests and prosecutions of sympathisers to Voldemort’s regime including Umbridge, the comforting of victims, the commemoration of the Battle of Hogwarts (and the whole ribbon-cutting ceremony to that blasted monument), the lobbying to include Snape as a legitimate Headmaster of Hogwarts, and endless other obligations. Ron had helped Hermione track down her parents in Australia (which had been a right mess all on its own before her parents had, mercifully, stopped freaking out over their loss of memory), after which he’d done his best to help his family settle back down to normalcy and support Harry where he could. Harry and he had only now had the time to complete the required certification to be full-blown Aurors, even though they’d been for all intents and purposes more than qualified. The Ministry had insisted they do the tests, however, so that they wouldn’t been seen to be ‘playing favourites’. Merlin, Ron hated politics.

  
He, Hermione, Neville, Luna and others had gained some fame of their own, a reflection of Harry’s fame, which unnerved and consternated them. Ron felt he understood Harry much better now.  
Now they’d all been letting off steam at the Burrow, and the party had run its full course for many wonderful hours until the crack of dawn. Tired, drunk and happy, people had finally been packing up and leaving.

  
The number of people slowly dwindled until it was only the Weasleys still living at the Burrow, Harry and Hermione left.

Ron held Harry in a farewell hug as Harry was going to return to Grimmauld Place.

  
“Don’t Splinch yourself,” he said as he clapped his best friend on the back.

Harry laughed. “Hey, at least I didn’t try to Apparate on top of Proudfoot!” he said, referring to the incident in their training period when they’d been assessed for their duelling skills and where Ron had inadvertently Apparated on top of Auror Proudfoot as they dodged his spells.

Ron laughed in return and punched Harry lightly on the shoulder. Harry turned to Hermione.

Smiling at the boys’ antics, Hermione came forward to give Harry a hug of her own. Ron noted the deep level of affection Hermione had in her eyes and the way she came into physical contact with Harry. In turn, he saw how Harry held her to his body as they bade each other goodbye.

There was something between Harry and Hermione, and Ron had an (as he’d concluded after thinking about it afterward) odd but surprising reaction to it.

He liked what he saw.

* * *

A few minutes later, he joined Hermione in their bed. He breathed in her scent as he laid his hands on her. Slowly he began to fondle her as he leaned in to kiss her on her neck.

“Please, Ron,” Hermione whispered. “I’m tired.”

“I’m horny,” he replied.

Hermione gave a snort of laughter. “No, really, Ron.” The two gazed at each other.

“You looked so beautiful,” he told her. “Tonight. At the party.”

She sighed. “It’s dawn, Ron. Be quick.”

Ron shifted between her legs as they moved about on the bed. He guided his hard cock to her entrance and quickly slid in. They moved together in a dance that by now was comfortably familiar after several years together. When they’d first been together, their sex had been wild, ardent, exploring together.

Now they’d become used to one another.

Hermione simply lay as Ron moved inside her; her eyes were closed and her face had shifted to one side, making her look like she was asleep. Ron thrust into her again and again, seeking release from his burning need. He started panting as the seconds ticked by.

Unbidden, an image of Harry and Hermione in a passionate embrace appeared in Ron’s mind. His cock swelled up, the intense feeling of orgasm rushed up through him, and he cried out as he thrust hard into her as he released his seed.

Panting hard, he rolled off her, spent. Hermione had a faint indulgent smile as she shifted on her side, slipping off into sleep.

For a while images played around in Ron’s mind: of how he’d enjoyed that, the idea of Hermione and Harry being more than friends; the time when the locket Horcrux had played on and twisted his feelings on the subject, which he hadn’t understood at the time; the level of ease and comfort he had always had of Harry spending time around Hermione, of the time Harry and Hermione had spent in that tent while he’d stalked off to home like the fool he’d been.

He'd obsessed over the thought of Harry and Hermione secretly shagging behind his back, especially after he’d abandoned them there in the tent, his perspective warped by the locket. When he’d Apparated away and realised the mistake he’d made, he’d been sure that he’d royally messed up and that he’d made his fear a reality. As the days and weeks went by, he’d struggled to make sense of what he’d felt. Jealous of Harry being more than friends with Hermione?

Now Ron understood that, deep down, he _enjoyed_ the idea. His younger self, with no experience to fall back on, hadn’t understood what to make sense of the visceral reaction he had. The locket, being Dark magic of the worst kind, had twisted what had already, probably had always, been there in his heart. Twisted and subverted into something ugly, a means to drive a wedge between him and the people he cared for the most.

Ron was now mature enough - Hermione’d be highly amused at the thought of him being mature - to understand that he could forgive himself for his mistakes, that the locket was probably equally as much or more to blame for the fiasco, and it was never too late to acknowledge what lay in his heart.  
Ron nodded quietly to himself as the seeds of an idea began to form inside his mind.

* * *

_5 months later_

Ron had continued to entertain the idea he’d cooked up. The more he thought about it, the more firm he’d become in seeing whether he could make it happen. As Harry had gone on one of his breaks with Ginny – again – he’d been brooding far more often lately than Ron’d liked.

Ron had organised outings and events where the three of them got together, and quite purposefully, found convenient times to disappear for a while to give Harry and Hermione some alone time. After those times, Harry had always seemed happier. Ron had watched both him and Hermione carefully, and concluded that there was definitely a bit of chemistry between the two that couldn’t be put down as merely platonic affection. After such outings, Hermione had been more agreeable to Ron’s sexual advances and Ron enjoyed every second of it.

As they’d become so familiar with each other sexually over the years, their sex life had become somewhat routine; Ron felt that Harry’s influence on Hermione, however subtle, was a positive effect.  
Over the past few weeks, they had seen little of Harry as Harry had been swamped with his myriad responsibilities and had had little spare time to spend with them. Commensurately, Ron had found that his frisky times with Hermione had fallen back into the old pattern of bored familiarity.

He decided it was time to broach the subject and the scheme he had thought up. He found Hermione reading in their bedroom one evening after he had finished work.

“Hey love,” he said.

Hermione looked up at his voice, before returning her attention to her book. “Welcome home, love. How was work?”

“Oh, same old, same old.” Ron shrugged off the question. “I’ve been thinking.”

“Ron Weasley? Thinking?” Hermione pretended to gasp. Her playful wink told him she was joking.

He smirked. “I’m full of surprises, I know.” He rallied after the slight derailment of the conversation.

“I’ve been thinking,” he repeated, “about, you know, us.”

Hermione gazed at him.

“What do you think of us? When we have sex, I mean.”

Hermione’s eyes rose in surprise at Ron’s question. She pursed her lips as she thought.

“I haven’t noticed anything different.”

“No? Don’t you think we’ve become … bored?”

“Bored?” Hermione frowned. She looked cute when she did that, Ron thought.

“I suppose … now that you mention it, maybe? Not all the time,” she added quickly. Ron smiled to show he wasn’t offended.

“Hermione, love, remember when we first got together? You talked about how important it was that we communicate clearly with each other.”

“Yes …”

“Well, I’ve felt that our sex life could use a little spicing up.”

“Hmm. I wouldn’t quite say that I agree, but if you want to say that we could use … a little ‘spicing up’. What are you thinking of?” Hermione asked, her gaze keenly focused on him.

Ron took one of Hermione’s hands and held it in his own.

“Hermione, you know that I love you.”

“And I love you very much, Ron. Now what are you beating about the bush for?”

Ron had to smirk inwards at Hermione’s impatient sharp mind.

“Good. Knowing that we love each other, what do you think of Harry?”

Hermione blinked. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“I know you like him.”

The book fell out of Hermione’s other hand as she looked at him in shock. “W-what?”

Ron grinned. “I’ve seen how you look at him, you know.”

“But – but that’s not –“

Ron’s slow grin turned into full-blown laughter, drowning out Hermione’s weak protestations. “Now you’re blushing,” he teased.

“I’m not!” Hermione denied even as her cheeks burned.

Ron continued to chuckle even as he picked up the dropped book and set it aside on the bed. He took both of Hermione’s hands back in his own.

“Hermione, love, I know you have feelings for Harry, and I’m fine with it. Blimey, if I wasn’t a bloke myself I’d go for him!”

Hermione had no idea what to say, so surprised was she at this unexpected turn of events. She settled for clasping Ron’s hands as she floundered within herself, before she decided to hear more of this … unanticipated … proposal of his.

“We’ve all been together through so much … it’d be weird if there were NO feelings involved, I reckon. That stupid locket turned me into a git … and I know Harry shares those feelings for you, too.”

“Who are you and what have you done with Ron Weasley?” Hermione had found her voice at last.

Ron shrugged. “I grew up.

“To be a pervert,” he added, leering suggestively at her.

Hermione burst into laughter and smacked him on the arm. “Prat! But seriously?”

“So, what do you think?”

“I don’t know …” Hermione hesitated. She gazed into his eyes and saw that he was serious about this idea. She licked her lips.

“What does Harry think? Does he know?” she said at last.

“Let me talk to him. I know he’s been feeling a little down since he and Ginny went on another of their ‘breaks’ …”

“Oh, honestly?” Hermione huffed her mild exasperation at this news. Ginny and Harry had always been a passionate couple, but they’d gained some notoriety in the family for their constant breaking up and joining back together again.

“All right, talk to him,” she concurred. Ron did not miss the way Hermione bit at her lip. Merlin, that tiny action, the way she’d squeezed his hands as she agreed, and the whole situation of this talk was making him hard. He returned to the present as he heard Hermione keep talking. “If he agrees, well, maybe we could think up something.”

“That we’ll do,” Ron beamed. He leaned down to capture her lips in a loving kiss.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Ron felt he was floating on a cloud. The thought of Hermione having sex with Harry made him rock hard to the point of _diamonds_. After that talk she and he had that evening, Hermione had been far more open and creative in their coupling. Ron reflected that it had been the correct decision to have that talk, as they’d become closer as a couple. Clear communication, indeed.

Speaking of Harry, Ron managed to get him away from his endless commitments for a while by speaking to his secretary on the sly – Harry had hired a secretary to help manage his busy schedule and deal with the constant fan mail and requests for his presence from the Ministry, the International Confederation of Wizards, the _Daily Prophet_, and countless others.

They met in a private room booked by Ron at the Leaky Cauldron. After having poured some Firewhiskey for himself and Harry, the pair caught up with each other over what they’d been up to over the past few weeks.

They laughed together at the ways they’d managed to wind up their respective superior officers, shared details on the missions they’d been dispatched out on, and the latest Quidditch news.

After the fifth glass, Ron decided it was time to talk about what he really wanted to speak to Harry about.

“How’s Ginny?”

Harry sighed. “I haven’t seen her; you know why.” He accepted the glass of Firewhiskey Ron offered him.

Ron made a noise of commiseration. “Still like that, huh?”

“Yeah,” Harry said. “She wants to 'focus' on the Harpies, she said. 'For real' this time.” He looked gloomily away.

“Well, Hermione and I are always here for you,” Ron declared after a heartbeat of silence. He raised his tumbler for a toast. Harry gave a small smile and raised his own.

“To us, the Golden Trio!” Ron cried as they clinked glasses.

Harry snickered. “Golden Trio? Ron, you think up the funniest things.”

Ron pretended to preen himself and flick his hair in a manner eerily reminiscent of the foppish fraud Gilderoy Lockhart. Harry laughed louder.

A comfortable silence fell on the pair as they sipped at their glasses.

“You know, Harry, there are other girls out there. Girls who’d love to have you.”

Harry looked askance at Ron. “That’s surprising, Ron, coming from you.”

Ron shrugged. “You’ll find I’m quite open-minded.”

Harry snorted before he drained the rest of his glass. “Merlin knows I have enough trouble as it is. I need another glass, please.”

Ron obliged the request for more Firewhiskey. As he set the bottle back down, he said, “What do you think of Hermione, in that case?”

Harry choked on his liquor. Spluttering in shock, he turned to Ron. “Ron … are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“Harry, we’re quite close, the three of us. She’s quite open -”

“God, Ron! She’s your wife!” Harry had stood up, staring incredulously at Ron. He eyed the bottle of Firewhiskey suspiciously.

“The Firewhiskey hasn’t been tampered with, Harry.” Ron spread his hands open. “All I’m saying is, think about it.”

Harry looked around for his wand. It was clear what he was thinking.

Ron sighed and stood up. “Harry. I am the real Ron Weasley, who has been with you this evening for more than an hour, with a mind as clear as the day I rescued you from that frozen pond in which you nearly drowned trying to get the Sword of Gryffindor.”

Harry looked at him, an unreadable expression on his face. “This has got to be a bloody bad joke,” he stated flatly; he then Disapparated with a resounding _crack_.

Ron sighed again, heavily, as he sat back down in the chair with a thud. “Crap, that could have gone better,” he muttered to the now empty bottle of Firewhiskey.

* * *

For the next few occasions which they’d come together (after he’d had eventually realised he’d missed Ron too much as his best friend), Harry had been terribly awkward, clearly dancing around the conversation he’d had with Ron. For Ron’s part, although he’d felt let down by Harry’s reaction, he’d pretended that nothing had happened. He hadn’t mentioned anything to Hermione – after she’d asked about it, he’d lied and pretended that he hadn’t managed to broach the subject with Harry yet.

Ron had ensured that these recent occasions he and Hermione had spent with Harry had always been with others, be it Neville, Luna, or the other Weasleys. That way the subject couldn’t be raised. Luckily, Hermione had never managed to be alone one-on-one with Harry, as that would have been a bad time before Harry came around to the idea, Ron thought.

As a few months passed with no mention of the subject, Harry had visibly relaxed, and now he and Ron were back to old terms as if nothing had happened.

Ron decided that the next step of his plan could go forward. Hermione had agreed, and Harry had, at the very least, considered the idea, even if he had been - taken surprise by – the suggestion. He hadn’t said anything, but Ron had caught him looking contemplatively at Hermione, while Hermione had played her part by being perfectly open to his gaze and not being too obvious about her interest. While no one had been looking, except on a couple of memorable occasions her approving husband, she’d rubbed up against Harry; small seemingly innocent touches here and there. She’d taken to dressing in clothing that showed off her figure without being too revealing. Ron was glad how low-key and circumspect she'd been about it. It didn't hurt that he had whispered to her once that it was more _fun_ this way. Perhaps she'd also sensed Harry wouldn't be exactly comfortable, in any case, with her advances if the purpose had been absolutely unambiguous?

Merlin, Ron loved that woman and her thinking.

And Harry hadn't complained or even looked upset. So far, so good.

After each get-together, later in the evening he and she would whisper to one another about the times Harry had checked her out and the thoughts they had when he did so. It put a whole, delicious spin to their lovemaking. Hermione had let slip Harry’s name several times as she cried out from her orgasms, which only drove her husband further into a frenzy.

Ron thought for several days about how to proceed with his goal, and the timing of it. It had to be on a night when he, Harry and Hermione were all free; the possibility that there could be interruptions had to be minimised; it had to be an appropriate occasion, which meant not a random invite out of the blue; and it had to be not too obvious that the intention was to get Harry alone with the two of them. Ron nodded as the skeleton of the latest stage of his plan began to come together. It would take time – longer than he would probably like - but it would have the best chance of working. He remembered his father had once referred to some Muggle platitude he'd come across and been impressed by:_ fortune favours the prepared_ ... or something along those lines, anyway.

* * *

_Would you join us for a housewarming party at our new flat this Friday at 19:30? Neville, Luna, George and Angelina, and the rest of the family will be there. We’d love to have you come!_

_Love, Hermione and Ron_

Harry felt the corners of his mouth tugging up as he read the invitation. He remembered Ron mentioning a while back that they'd been looking for a place to call their own. Close to London, he recalled. Harry dipped his quill and quickly wrote his reply.

  
  
_Of course I’d love to be there! See you soon._

_\- Harry_

He spoke with his secretary and had her clear his entire schedule for that Friday evening. He’d have to think of something small but nice to get them as a gift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the kudos and bookmarks! The real fun starts next chapter! ;) Stayed tuned and thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

That Friday, Harry found himself outside the door of Ron and Hermione’s new flat. It was located in a nice neighbourhood somewhat close to London, which Harry thought was well chosen due to the Ministry not being too far away. Of course, Apparation made distance largely irrelevant, but often wizards didn’t always feel like Apparating, in which case the Floo Network or the Knight Bus came in handy. Harry himself did not care much for the latter two options, of course. The building the flat was located in looked to be well-constructed with quality materials. After the war, he, Ron, Hermione, Neville, and the other heroes of the war against Voldemort had been amply rewarded, despite protests in his own personal case, and Harry was glad that Ron at least got to get a few nice things for himself. Harry had used some of the money he’d received to renovate Grimmauld Place; the place was positively cheerful compared to what it had been before, and dear old Kreacher had done his best to help.

Harry shook these thoughts out of his head and rang the doorbell.

“Harry!”

Hermione beamed at him. Harry’s heart stopped for a moment as he took her in; she was dressed in a simple blouse and skirt that accentuated her figure nicely.

“Hermione, you look great tonight!” he said as he stepped through the door. As they gave each other a chaste kiss, Hermione smiled even more. “Thank you! The others are through here.”

She accepted the flowers and bottle of elf-made wine he’d brought with him, and led him through the flat to the living room, where the other guests had already arrived. Cries of greeting echoed in the room as Ron clapped him on his back; Neville, Bill and Mr Weasley shook his hand; George grinned wickedly at him from his chair as he raised a glass of wine in toast; Luna and Angelina waved at him, while Fleur kissed him on both his cheeks; and Mrs Weasley swept him up in one of her patented Weasley hugs. Harry noted Ginny wasn’t there; perhaps she’d been unable to attend due to her duties at the Holyhead Harpies. Rolling his eyes inwardly at the thought, Harry shifted his attention to the room. It was tastefully furnished, mostly the effort of Hermione rather than Ron if Harry knew his friends.

Harry _oohed_ and _ahhed_ along with the others as Ron and Hermione led them on a tour of the flat, and then it was time to sit down to eat and drink. The hours flew by as Harry laughed with his adopted family. Eventually, the others departed and it was just Hermione, Ron and Harry left. Truthfully, part of the reason Harry had stayed the longest was because there wasn’t really anything back at Grimmauld Place for Harry to go back home to. He broke out of his pensive mood as Hermione brought out Harry’s gift bottle that he’d given them at his arrival earlier in the evening.

“Oh my! Elf-made wine?” she murmured.

“The finest I could find.” Harry replied.

“Well now, I’ve got to try this out,” she chirped. She shared a meaningful glance with Ron and returned her gaze to Harry.

“Why don’t you join us for a nightcap to round off tonight?”

“Sounds good,” Harry smiled.

She sauntered over to the liquor cabinet to fetch the wineglasses; Harry felt his eyes drawn to the way her hips moved as she walked. Damn.

He tried to think of Ginny, but he still felt annoyed at her and the way they had broken up this time. His traitorous eyes flicked back to Hermione as she returned, at the way her bosom jiggled as she held the bottle in one hand and the three glasses in the other.

She gave him a sultry look as she passed him his glass. Then they all cheered as they clinked their wineglasses together and drained them. A second round was poured between the three of them.

“Love, why don’t you dance for us?” Ron said. Hermione giggled and got off her seat.

Harry was curious. He’d seen a bit of her dancing way back in their fourth year, at the Yule Ball. How good was she now?

Hermione pointed her wand at the wireless radio; music blared to life. Smirking at Harry and Ron, Hermione began to move in time to the beat. She was surprisingly good at it, Harry thought. He leaned in to Ron and half-whispered to him, “She’s actually good at this, huh?”

Ron grinned back at him. “She’s amazing.”

As the song ended, Harry clapped wholeheartedly for her. Hermione took a bow for him and he laughed. Over the next two songs, Hermione became steadily more sensual in her movements, to the point Harry felt he needed to loosen some clothing. At the last, she held out her hands to him.

“Join me?” she said simply.

Harry found to his surprise being pulled up by Hermione, and in a slight daze he began to be led by her movements as she held him. Then she swiveled around, such that she had her back to him. She placed his hands firmly on her hips; getting the hint, Harry held them there as he followed in her gyrating to the music.

She leaned back into him, smiling dazzlingly in his face.

“Hermione …” he trailed off as he felt her hands snake around his once more, pulling them to her chest. He gulped as she grinded on him, against his groin. His gaze wandered over to Ron, who had the biggest grin on his face. Harry’s head whipped around in shock as Hermione deliberately molded his hands over her breasts, cupping them.

“Hermione!” She smirked and gave him a quick kiss on the lips.

He really, really liked the sensation.

The song came to an end and Hermione led Harry back to his chair hand in hand.

“Did you enjoy that?” she asked, her eyes half-lidded as she stood over him.

“Yes,” he admitted in a hoarse voice. He almost missed the whoop of celebration Ron made, pumping his fist in the air.

“More wine?” Hermione asked, more matter-of-fact. Harry found himself distracted by her again.

“Please.”

“Here you go.”

“Merlin, Hermione, where did that come from?” Harry asked after he had gulped from his glass.

“Remember our one time in the tent?” Hermione said, impishly.

“What’s this? I gotta hear about this,” Ron spoke up for the first time in a while.

“Oh bugger,” Harry groaned.

Hermione shushed Harry and turned to Ron. “We … might have done a few … things when you ran out on us.”

Harry held his face in his hands. He looked up as he felt a touch on his shoulder. Ron smiled down at him. “Hey, it’s okay,” the redheaded man said. “I really want to hear this. Should be good … and yeah, serve me right.”

“Hey, what’s past is past,” Harry began weakly, but Hermione and Ron both shushed him again.

Hermione sat down in Harry’s lap, to his surprise, and commenced with her story.

“Well, after you left, Ron, Harry and I became closer.”

“Naturally,” said Ron; she shot him an annoyed look.

“One night, I was really overwhelmed, and Harry here was also in a bad place. He was missing Ginny really badly, weren’t you, Harry?”

“Look Hermione, we might have kissed -”

“And so we did,” Hermione interrupted. She gave him a forceful kiss on the lips again, shutting him up.

“Anyway, Ron, we were both feeling really lonely, and we took comfort in each other being there.”

“And then?” grinned Ron. He didn’t seem at all fazed by what Hermione had just implied, Harry noted.

“Then this.” Hermione pulled open her blouse; she was not wearing a bra.

Harry drank in the sight of her pert breasts, of the gorgeous areolae and nipples which had contrasted so much with Ginny’s pale ghostly ones when he’d compared them in his mind. Then Hermione pulled his head down into her bosom.

Harry’s last shred of control evaporated. His hands reached up to fondle her soft, beautiful breasts. He lifted his head and captured one nipple in his mouth, sucking greedily on it, making Hermione gasp.

“And then-and then –“ Hermione stuttered, her face blushing deeper. “We – OOH- we got c-carried away …”

She threw her head back as Harry’s fingers found their way underneath her skirt, pressing up against her pantie-clad pussy.

“More. Tell me more,” Ron growled.

Hermione glanced at him, at his eyes burning with desire, and continued. “We were just like this. Like this. Oh, dammit Harry, let me …”

She lifted herself slightly, reaching down to pull her panties to the side so that Harry could get unfettered access to her pussy with his talented fingers.

“FUCK YES! Harry - he and I played around like this for a while –“

Harry and Hermione’s eyes met, and as one they kissed. And not just a peck on the lips this time. They devoured each other’s mouths; Harry ran over her teeth with his tongue and wrestled her tongue with his own.

Harry felt her hands kneading his chest. He’d been rubbing lightly against her pussy, which’d been getting slicker and slicker by the minute. He judged it a ripe time to escalate. Slowly he slid further and further, until he slipped a finger gently into her hole. Hermione arched her back in pleasure. Her expression took on a feral, hungry look. She pulled away, removed her skirt and panties, and sat astride Harry’s lap again. Harry understood what she wanted; as she resumed her seat, he slid a finger into her again, making a tender ‘_come hither’_ motion. He felt and heard the wet walls of her pussy squelch with the movement.

“Fuck,” she hissed as she worked to loosen his belt and trouser fly. Finally she loosened both enough; Harry obliged by lifting his hips up, pushing both of them up, so that she could start to pull down his trousers. She growled in frustration as she saw that he’d worn underpants underneath.

She dug in her nails, making Harry yelp for a startled moment, before ripping down his underpants.

Hermione moaned in desire as Harry’s cock sprung free; nestled within a patch of dark, unruly pubic hair, Harry’s penis looked the imposing tool Hermione knew it to be. Licking her lips, Hermione resumed her position, taking hold of Harry’s cock and beginning to play with it. Harry silently and obediently restarted his fingering; only this time, he inserted _two_ fingers.

Hermione closed her eyes, trying to keep herself from exploding. The silence was filled with nothing but the _schlick-schlick-schlick_ of Harry’s fingers and their heavy breathing.

Hermione was pumping Harry’s stiff cock in earnest now; she leaned in close to him and held her arm around his shoulders.

Harry began to move his hips in time with Hermione’s hand. He felt the wonderful feeling of her weight in his lap. His eyes roved over her; over her legs spread out to either side of him, pinning him in his chair; on his fingers buried in her wonderful, warm, wet pussy; at her hand lovingly caressing his penis; over her stomach up to her gorgeous breasts, which jiggled with every movement he and she both made; and finally her face, with her blissful expression: eyes half-closed, mouth slightly open, rosy cheeks, hair tumbling over to one side.

He felt the walls of her pussy clench against his fingers; Hermione let out a strangled sound that might have been a squeak or a whimper. He found himself lost for a moment in her eyes as she opened them.

Then Hermione seized and pulled his hand, removing his fingers from inside her. “I want the real thing, now,” she whispered. She angled his cock up against her entrance, and slowly sank down. Harry groaned as the wet, warm, _tight_, sheath swallowed his meat, until she slid all of him in.

They took a deep breath as they took in the sensation of each other. Hermione smirked crookedly at Harry.

“Hey Harry.”

“Hey yourself,” he whispered back.

Then Hermione began _moving_. Gods! Harry struggled not to cum right there and then. Hurriedly he tried to think of Umbridge, Dumbledore, Snape, anything to distract him from the impossibly intense sensations Hermione was making him feel.

_Fuck!_

Harry dug his fingers into Hermione’s ample arse cheeks, and he _pushed_ back into her as she slid back down his cock.

He wanted to _claim_ her. He wanted to push as _deep_ in her as he could, and pump her womb _full_ of cum. He wanted her to take his cock and _cum_ from it. He wanted to _breed_ her, turn her into a _mindless_ slut for his cock, make her exquisite body the vessel for his fertile seed. She was _his_ for the taking.

Harry roared his victory in orgasm as he hammered into her. He felt his penis _pulse_; he could feel the _massive_ load of cum travel up his cock; could feel his cock _jerk_ as it blasted each load, again and again, into Hermione’s wondrous pussy.

“HNNNNNNNN-!” Hermione gritted her teeth as her body quaked from the orgasm that had seized her.

Panting, they slowly came down from their respective peaks as they sagged against each other. Harry drank in the smell and feel of her as he rested his face against her sweaty skin; of the way her chest heaved from the exertion, of the warmth that pooled in their laps as he sat still sheathed inside her.

Slowly, they looked over to Ron. He was naked as the day he was born, which made Harry chuckle. Ron grinned lazily back; he’d clearly enjoyed the spectacle very much, judging from the glistening spots of semen on his belly and chest as he’d masturbated while watching them fuck each other’s brains out.

“And that,” Hermione breathed, “that was how we ended up shagging.”

The laughter from the three of them was the perfect ending to the perfect night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed that ;) Thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

After the evening, the three had become even closer than they had been before, which had been saying something. Harry came around to their place more and more often, ostensibly for either Ministry business, mutual planning on using their clout and fame to push for societal reform or to help out others in need, or often just joining for simple dinner, but the three knew all of these were an convenient excuse for him to be at the flat to shag Hermione silly.

None of the three had told any of the family or other friends of the new arrangement between them. And really, there was no reason to. It was their own private lives after all, and they preferred to live without the controversy that would have ensued.

Hermione loved this arrangement. She loved both her boys. Each of them brought something different to the table, which she equally needed. With Harry came the passion, the hot desire, the wild sex that stoked her libido. With Ron she had the sweet, caring lovemaking, the mutual understanding and security of the relationship.

While Harry’s penis felt better, and could make her cum in ways that Ron never could, Ron knew her body better by virtue of them having been together for longer.

When they all played together … those were her favourite times.

How had she gotten so lucky?

Hermione shivered as she thought of all this as she worked away at her desk. Despite her best efforts to focus on her parchment and the words written there so far (she was supposed to be identifying the potential loopholes in a particular, onerously long section of this bill that was being drafted for the Ministry’s redefined relationship to goblins), her mind kept wandering back to the memorable sexual instances she’d had since this arrangement developed.

“Oh, bollocks,” she muttered. Giving up her work task as a bad job for the time being, Hermione put down her quill and slouched back in her seat. Her hand found its way into her robes, touching upon her vulva, which she found was already wet with sexual desire. Her other hand pressed against one breast as she began to play with herself. She couldn’t help it! With all these … _thoughts_ running around non-stop in her head.

She thought of the way her sex life had simply … taken off since Harry entered (re-entered?) the picture. Her husband had shown a side to himself that Hermione had never imagined existed. She enjoyed the way he’d roped Harry into their sex life, the cunning scoundrel. That endearingly irritating smirk of his, the same expression he wore when he had just pulled off a clever checkmate in chess.

He knew her too well.

And … Harry. What a gorgeous example of masculine wizard-kind. Vanquisher of the Dark Lord Voldemort, skilled and knowledgeable in defensive magic, an incredible Seeker in Quidditch, a heart of gold … and a _beast_ in bed. Hermione giggled to herself.

Her eyes fluttered closed in pleasure as she masturbated, her fingers rubbing insistently at her clit. Her mind was filled with flashes of a freckled redheaded man with warm eyes setting off her sensitive spots with unerring accuracy, and a black-haired man with arresting green eyes, driving her crazy with his _cock_ …

“Fuck,” she breathed. She was getting there, edging closer …

Voices brought her crashing back down to reality. She was in her cubicle in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures in the Ministry of Magic, and she’d been masturbating shamelessly where anyone could have caught her.

Fear, embarrassment and sexual thrill warred against one another inside her as she hastily adjusted her robes and picked up her quill again. The voices which she’d heard rose and faded away as her colleagues walked on past, unaware of what’d taken place.

A new emotion rose up within her: frustration. Hermione growled. She’d have to hold out and wait until she could get home. This was going to be a long afternoon.

* * *

Ron had not had a good day. Auror Williamson, his supervisor, had snapped at him for not paying enough attention to his long-winded waffling, the pompous arse. That effing man …

Ron was glad when the workday finished and he could get away.

He flooed straight home and heard noises as he arrived. Following the source of the sounds, he entered the kitchen. His foul mood lightened considerably as he saw what was happening. Harry had pushed Hermione (who was completely naked from the waist down) against the wall, and both seemed to be having a very good time indeed.

_They just couldn’t wait, could they? Especially Hermione, who was always so impatient_ … Ron smirked to himself.

“Welcome home, mate. You ok?” Harry grunted as he thrusted away.

Hermione was too far gone to say anything.

Ron approached them. He cupped Hermione’s cheek, turning her face up towards him, and gave her a kiss, which she returned with fervour. He cupped Hermione’s breast over her top, feeling the stress drain away as he did so.

“Williamson, the usual bullshit.”

Harry made a noise of sympathy.

“Can’t we swap?” Ron said plaintively.

Harry gave a sly grin at him. Ron saw he knew he was still talking about work, but the berk chose not to interpret it that way.

“You know Hermione’s too fun to play with,” he snickered. The woman in question gave Harry a look of mock accusation, while the two men laughed.

“I meant our supervisors, you horny bastard,” Ron chuckled as he stepped away from the trysting pair. He couldn’t resist giving his wife a slap on her bum cheeks.

“Ron!” Hermione’s cry of indignation was cut off as Harry covered her mouth with his hand.

“Less talking, more fucking,” he murmured to her. He turned back to Ron. “Sorry, no can do, Ron. Just stick it out, all right?”

Ron shook his head in amused exasperation. “I’ll stick _this_ out for now.” He waved his cock at them, having opened his robes.

“Honestly,” Hermione found her voice at last. “You boys are the worst!” The pair had turned to face Ron and she obligingly bent down to take his hard penis in her mouth.

_Yes, things were turning out to be okay after all_, Ron thought.

* * *

Later that night all three found themselves in the bedroom. Ron hadn’t had a chance to have his way with Hermione yet; he was getting antsy, despite her giving him a most excellent blowjob earlier that afternoon. After Harry had finished, they’d taken a break and had dinner together.

“Someone’s getting excited,” Harry remarked as he divested himself of his remaining clothes, now completely naked. Of course, Ron and he had seen enough of each other throughout their time in the dormitories and showers at Hogwarts, but they’d never done the same with Hermione present until recently.

The three revelled in the new heights of ease and comfort they felt around each other.

“Shut it, you,” Ron smiled. “I want my turn.”

Harry and Hermione shared a sly look. Ron narrowed his eyes. “What are you up to?” he whispered.

“Love, do you trust us?” Hermione purred. She had a hand on her hip in a provocative pose.

Ron’s eyebrow rose. “What kind of question is that? ‘Course I trust you, darling.”

Hermione gave a dazzling smile in response and raised her hand into the air. Ron saw her put her fingers together as if she were about to snap them.

“Wait -“ he began as she snapped her fingers.

Ropes appeared out of thin air and wrapped themselves around Ron’s body, binding him faster than he could blink.

“Hermione!” Ron cried in surprise. He squirmed on the ground in a vain attempt to free himself.

“Relax, dear husband.” Hermione smirked down at him. She rolled him onto his back and Vanished his clothes from underneath his restraining ropes. She tugged at the ropes covering his nether regions and loosened them enough to allow his cock to spring free.

“Oh, what a cute thing you are,” she cooed as she bopped a finger on the head of his penis, causing it to bounce in the air. Then she bent her head to kiss the tip.

An involuntary groan rose from within Ron before he could stop himself.

His wife giggled as she stood up. “Herm – ion - ee!” Ron whined as he strained against his ropes.

“Tsk-tsk, getting impatient, are we?” Harry tutted as he lifted Ron’s upper body up off the floor. He shifted the ropes Hermione had loosened and gave a playful slap to Ron’s ass before depositing him in a conjured chair.

“Fuck you, mate,” Ron groused as Harry gave him a smirk.

“Sorry Ron, but only your wife gets to do that.”

Hermione sauntered over to Ron’s other side. “Now what happens to naughty boys who get impatient?”

“They get what they want?” Ron tried.

“Nuh-huh,” Hermione gently contradicted him, wagging a finger. “Impatient boys need to learn a lesson in _delayed gratification_.”

Ron growled in frustration.

Harry made his way behind Hermione, laying strong hands on her shoulders.

“One of us is far too overdressed right now,” he said to her. She smiled and obediently began to strip.

“No, no, let me do the honours,” Harry murmured. Hermione glanced up at him in surprise and then giggled even more. “Okay.”

Harry turned his gaze to meet Ron’s. He winked. “This is what you wanted, Ron,” he said in a low voice.

Ron stayed silent, waiting for his friend to finish.

“You wanted your wife and me to be close, like this.” Harry leaned in and slipped his hands underneath Hermione’s top, fondling her breasts.

Ron found his cock stiffening further at the sight.

“You wanted Harry and I to be _more than friends_.” Hermione declared, before Harry whispered something in her ear. She raised her arms in response and Harry pulled the top up over her head, discarding it to the side. His hands returned to Hermione’s glorious bare tits, running his fingers over her nipples which were hardening under the combined attention of the two men in the room.

After a few minutes, Harry slid his hands down Hermione’s lovely stomach to her panties. He slid a hand underneath, cupping her pussy. Ron could see the wet spot that was visible on the fabric of her panties.

Harry spoke again, forcing Ron’s attention back up. “You wanted this … for us to be _lovers_.”

Ron swallowed, feeling his arousal tightening its grip on him. His cock, rock-hard, quivered in the air.

Harry finally slid the panties down Hermione’s legs, slipping them off; leaving Hermione as naked as the two of them. “And I _thank_ you for it, Ron.” Harry flung the panties at him; it landed on his face. He couldn’t help himself; he took a deep sniff, taking in the smell of Hermione from the fabric dangling on his head.

He caught sight of Harry and Hermione moving; he jerked his head and the panties slipped off, allowing him to see what was happening.

He gave a low moan as he saw Harry tugging at his own cock, which was growing and growing. His own cock twitched, weeping pre-cum, as he watched his best friend move up behind once more behind his wife, who was wiggling her bum.

“Ron,” Harry’s deep voice called out again.

“Yes?”

“Watch now. You _want_ this.” Harry moved Hermione closer to Ron. He opened and spread her thighs, revealing her wet, glistening pussy to his sight.

Ron’s mouth had never felt so dry as he drank in the sight of his wife’s cunt; a thin line of clear grool was slowly descending from her pussy lips.

“_Fuck_,” he breathed as Harry slid his fat cock between Hermione’s legs. Ron couldn’t tear his eyes away as he watched, in utter captivation, the head of Harry’s cock poking at the entrance of her snatch. He found himself leaning forward as Harry’s manhood spread her pussy lips, before pushing inside.

Ron’s penis jerked and twitched in unsatiated need as Harry gave a victorious grin, while Hermione closed her eyes in bliss.

“Yes,” Ron openly admitted at last. “Yes, fuck my beautiful wife, Harry. I need it. _Please_.”

“Your wish is my command,” Harry nodded. Hermione gave a cry of pleasure as Harry began thrusting away roughly in her.

Ron growled and squirmed in the ropes restraining him, his neglected cock crying out for attention as he stared at the two people, whom he loved and cared for the most, fucking right in front of him.

A thrill rose within Ron’s body as he watched Hermione blush deeper and deeper as she coupled with Harry, her gorgeous tits bouncing just outside of the reach of his hands had they been free.

He drank in the sight of Harry’s tool spearing in and out of her pussy, listening to every _smack_ and _squelch_ as Harry plumbed her depths. The smell of their arousal and lovemaking wafted into his nostrils and he inhaled as deeply as he could, savouring every moment of it.

“FUCK ME, HAAARRREEEEE ….” Hermione wailed, her hands clutching at her breasts as she pushed her hips back at Harry’s lean body.

Harry shifted his grip on her body, forcing her backwards onto his cock as he fucked her relentlessly.

“Harder,” Hermione moaned. “_Harder_!”

“Ugh,” Harry grunted. He panted as he ratcheted up his tempo.

“Harry, look,” Hermione whimpered. “Look at Ron.”

Harry craned his neck. A long string of pre-cum was now hanging from Ron’s manhood, which gave involuntary jerks every few seconds.

“He’s loving this,” Hermione purred to Harry. Her eyes kept contact with Ron’s as she leaned back into Harry. “Ron, you gave me such a _wonderful_ lover.” Saying so, Hermione turned her head and gave Harry a French kiss, full of desire and hunger. Ron’s cheeks burned as he watched Harry and Hermione shamelessly devour one another’s mouths. His heart beat madly in his chest as he observed them; they were doing this with him, for him. He craved this, _needed_ it, and they were making it true, so completely true in every way he dreamed possible.

“Shit,” Harry hissed as they broke apart. He gripped Hermione’s hips tightly and gave several powerful, deep thrusts, before slowing down to a near stand-still. Ron felt his mouth water as he saw Harry’s cock was _pulsing_ in Hermione’s cunt, clearly filling her up with his seed.

“Oh, that feels good,” Hermione whispered. She bit her lip as she looked down at where she and Harry were joined together. Harry gave one or two more thrusts, before he finally pulled out. His swollen penis glistened with her juices; a glorious sight to Ron’s eyes.

“Time to reward our patient boy here,” Hermione smiled as she straightened.

“Thank Merlin,” Ron growled. He rubbed the skin on his arms where the ropes had bound him but a moment before. He pounced on his wife, who gave a shriek of surprised mirth, and pinned her down on the bed.

He couldn’t move fast enough, so desperate was his burning need for his release. He shoved her legs open and slammed his cock right into her. Ron shut his eyes in ecstasy as he hammered into her again and again, drowning out her aroused moaning.

Ron opened his eyes and roared as he achieved the orgasm that had been denied him for so long.

“FUCK!”

His cock spat out dollop after dollop of cum into his wife’s pussy, which was already overflowing with Harry’s jism. Ron collapsed on top of his wife, panting as if he had just run a marathon. Slowly, he raised his head and met his wife’s tender gaze. Together they kissed, basking in their shared love, before he got off of her.

“Here it is,” Ron said huskily as he knelt down by Hermione’s wet, abused snatch.

“Ron?” came his wife’s weak reply.

“Shh,” Ron admonished. His gaze took in the swollen red lips of her pussy, sopping wet with his and Harry’s semen. Then he bent his head and began to pleasure her with his tongue.

_Harry doesn’t taste bad at all_, he reflected idly as he cleaned up her snatch with his greedy tongue.

Hermione moaned, threading her fingers through his hair. She gritted her teeth in utter pleasure as he lapped at her entrance and her clit. Ron’s skilled tongue brought her closer and closer to the edge, before at last, with a cry, she came. Her thighs pressed together, trapping Ron’s head as she ground against his tongue and lips. She flopped back to the bed, exhausted.

“That was incredible,” Harry said as he lay down besides her. “Where did that come from, Ron?”

Ron smiled. “Couldn’t help myself, I guess,” he shrugged as he settled back on the bed, on Hermione’s other side.

“God, I love you guys,” Hermione said, a dazed smile on her face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed that! Thanks for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

Harry had been away more often as of late, unable to escape his many obligations. Harry voiced his annoyance with the whole enterprise, what with his being even more famous than when he’d been a kid. Ron and Hermione did their best to support him and commiserated with him; they missed his presence deeply when he was away.

Well, that was life – some things couldn’t be helped, and irksome responsibilities were one of them.

It didn’t mean they couldn’t talk about it, and work off their frustration in _creative_ ways.

It was on one such evening that Ron and Hermione found themselves alone, with Harry having to attend a meeting with the International Confederation of Wizards alongside Gawain Robards, who was Head Auror, and Kingsley Shacklebolt, the Minister of Magic, for an update on suspect Dark wizard activity on the continent.

“I wish Harry was here,” Ron said for the millionth time.

“I miss him, too,” Hermione said. She was holed up with a book again for the evening, but put it away for the moment. She turned to Ron.

“Ron, I actually wanted to talk to you, about Harry.”

Her tone told him this was a more serious conversation.

“Yes Hermione?” he prompted gently.

“I – well. Where does Harry stand … and us? How does this _work_?”

Trust Hermione to try to figure things out. Ron reached out and held her hands.

“Hermione, you know that my feelings haven’t changed for you one bit. How do _you_ feel, love?”

“A bit confused,” she admitted. “I love you, Ron ... but I also love Harry. How can this be?”

And to his astonishment, Ron saw tears in her eyes. _She’s crying!_

“Oh dear,” he murmured. “This must be so terribly bewildering.” He shifted so that he sat closer to her.

“I know all too well that love can be such a messy tangle.” Ron’s mouth twisted. “But it doesn’t mean that what you feel is wrong, or not real, or however you might be feeling.”

“I – well, I’ve always been raised in Muggle society, where this thing we have isn’t – normal,” Hermione sniffled.

Ron nodded. “Same here, actually. How do you think my mum would react if she found out about our arrangement?”

Hermione gave a weak smile. “We’d be lucky to escape unscathed from her freak-out.”

“At the very least, we’d all be deaf,” Ron said, causing her to giggle. “Hermione, there is nothing wrong with how you feel about me and Harry. Way I see it, the heart can hold more than one. Each of us has a place in it.”

Hermione gazed up at him, her eyes wet. “Oh Ron … how is it that sometimes you just have the right words to say?” She threw her arms around him.

Returning the embrace, Ron closed his eyes and bent his head. After a while, the two broke apart.

“Thanks, love,” Hermione said, wiping at her eyes.

“Besides, we both know what Harry is like as a person. If he didn’t feel anything for you, for us, he would never agree to be part of this arrangement.”

“I guess … I guess I was just overthinking things …” Hermione said, not quite meeting his eyes.

“Darling, you wouldn’t be Hermione otherwise.”

“Prat!” she slapped him on the arm. But she smiled, which had been Ron’s goal.

“There’s my Hermione.”

“It’s just … ever since Harry came into our lives like this, I never knew how much he meant to me. How much I like having him around here.”

“I know what you mean,” agreed Ron. “Ever since Harry joined us … I’ve felt happier.”

Hermione nodded fervently. “I feel … freer, more sexual.” She bit her lip, shooting him a glance.

“Man, the things we get up to in the bedroom, eh?”

“And the living room. And the kitchen. And …” Hermione licked her lips, her gaze squarely meeting his.

“Is it just me, or is it getting hot in here all of a sudden?”

She burst into laughter. She jumped up and pulled at his arm, leading them into the bedroom.

“You horny rascal,” she said as she waved her wand, Vanishing his clothes, impatient with the normally laborious process of removing clothes by hand. “The things we get up to –“

“Like me licking the cum out of your pussy after Harry and I were done with you?”

“Yeah. How did it taste, by the way?” she asked curiously as she pushed him down onto the bed.

“I - well – I … liked it. A bit,” he admitted.

“You _liked_ the taste of Harry’s cum?” Hermione said, astonished.

Ron felt his face burn. “Well – yeah.”

Hermione’s lips moved in a silent _wow _as she gaped at her husband.

“I never thought I’d hear anything like that come from your mouth,” she said finally.

Ron shrugged. “I always like to say I have _good taste_.”

His wife gave an involuntary groan. “Don’t you ever stop?”

“Never,” he said cheekily.

“You know what you have to do now?” Hermione said, sitting down. She’d Vanished her own clothes and was completely naked. As always, the sight of her nude body took Ron’s breath away.

“What might that be?” he said after his brain caught up to what she’d said.

“You’re not going to move, _at all_. And I’m going to sit on your face, and you’re going to eat me out, and you will _like_ it.”

“Oh yes,” Ron agreed eagerly. “The way your brain works, really -“

“Shhh. I’ll do the thinking for us tonight,” she interrupted, having straddled his torso and shuffling up to his head.

“Ah, Hermione –“

“Shut up and lick me,” his wife ordered, pushing her muff right in his face. He drunk in the scent of her heavenly musk.

“- might you have fucked Harry on the side while I wasn’t looking?” Ron continued in a hopeful tone, pushing his luck.

His wife gazed down at him and seemed to consider for a moment.

“Unfortunately, not today. No cum for you, dear. _Now do as I said_.” She slid her fingers into his hair and lifted his head forcefully _against_ her crotch.

Obediently, Ron began to explore and plumb her depths with his tongue. After a few minutes he cradled his wife’s soft ass cheeks with his hands, helping support her weight. He kneaded each cheek lovingly as his tongue _slid_ over her clit and pussy lips which glistened with her arousal.

Somewhere above him, he heard her moaning softly. As his tongue teased her and steadily narrowed down to the zone he knew she always, without fail, got off on, her grip on his hair became tighter. Then he zeroed in on the exact spot that was her weakness, that made her _gush_, and she screamed. She forced his face _deeper_ into her crotch, grinding against his mouth. He marvelled at the strength in her fingers and her hips as she moved while he lay underneath her, literally in her grip.

As she came down from her orgasm, she couldn’t help but let her body collapse onto his face. Ron found he couldn’t breathe – Hermione’s muff covered his nose and mouth – the weight was _pushing_ his head into the bed and he couldn’t lift it – and he _loved_ it.

Loved the weight and warmth of her body, suffocating him, holding him in a wondrous embrace even if it was only for a moment, as Hermione realised that she’d fallen onto his face and jumped off with a “Eep! Sorry Ron!”

“Dang, that was great,” Ron grinned, waving off her apology.

Hermione looked at him with concern before giving an impish smile of her own. Her eyes travelled down Ron’s body to his cock, which was half-erect.

She reached down and held his penis, causing it to rapidly stiffen to full mast. She looked slyly back at his face.

“What a naughty boy you are,” she whispered. Slowly she began to jerk him off.

“Hah – yes,” Ron said eloquently.

Her thumb ran over the bulbous head, taking the pre-cum that had appeared and spreading it all over the crown.

“You’d like me and Harry to be in _charge_. Isn’t that right, Ron?”

“G-god, Hermione,” he grunted as she slid her hand down his shaft.

“What would Harry think if he knew about this? That you _like_ being submissive?”

Hermione was watching him, a wicked smile on her lips, her eyes alive with the delight of seeing him responding to her touch.

“Merlin, what would he say when he sees that you _enjoy_ the taste of his cum leaking out of my _cunt_?” she said, gripping his cock very firmly at the base.

“_Fuck_ \- he was - uh – surprised when I cleaned you up at the – uh - end, wasn’t he?”

“A-ah,” Hermione said, a twinkle in her eyes. “I don’t think he really understood. No, not when he only saw it one time.”

Her fingers rotated lightly upwards along his member, giving it a delicious sensation without being too tight.

“No, he’ll get it only when he sees you _begging_ to eat his cum from me,” she laughed, as her skillful hand worked his cock to the edge. “And he’ll _watch_ as you drink every _last_ drop of it.”

Ron groaned. She _tugged_ insistently at his cock, and watched in satisfaction as it jerked, spurting his seed which flew out and landed on her chest and breasts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Over 10,000 words in this fic ... yay! Thanks for reading!


	6. Chapter 6

Hermione frowned as she went over the text again. This … this section of the proposed bill wasn’t good. It was potentially overreaching, counterproductive. She’d have to let the Aurors know about this. She bit her lip as she hurriedly finished off the memo before sending it on its way.

_To: Harry Potter_

_Dept: Auror Office_

_Msg: Please confirm if you in office, as I have some things to show you._

_From: Hermione Weasley_

_Dept: Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures_

Ten minutes later, Hermione spotted a new memo whizzing into her cubicle. It landed smoothly on her desk and unfolded itself.

_To: Hermione Weasley _

_Dept: Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures _

_Msg: Show me._

_From: Harry Potter_

_Dept: Auror Office_

Hermione giggled to herself. She snatched up the offending documents that she was only too happy to use as an excuse for what she had in mind. Her heart fluttered with excitement.

* * *

** _Auror Office, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Ministry of Magic_ **

Harry looked up as Hermione strode into his office, a number of documents clutched in her hand.

“Harry, as I said in my memo, we have some things to discuss,” she said seriously.

Harry sat back in his chair as he waited to hear what she had to say.

“Two things. First, this stupid amendment my higher ups saw fit to try and push through on this bill. I want you guys to have a look at it and see if you can’t have it changed or thrown out, because the scope’s far too broad and could negatively affect your department.”

“Got that,” Harry acknowledged. “What else?”

Hermione had held her hands on her hips and brandished the documents as she’d spoken. She gave him a sly look, one that he knew well from their secret trysts.

“This,” she said simply as she tossed the papers onto his desk.

“You naughty slut,” Harry breathed as Hermione opened her Ministry-issued robes to reveal that she was completely naked beneath it.

His eyes raked freely up and down her body. He finally looked up from her pale breasts to her face, which was fixed in a sultry expression. Beginning to get seriously aroused, he opened his mouth to say just what exactly he had on his mind -

Sounds erupted from behind the closed door to Harry’s office, warning Hermione enough to whip her robe closed in time as the door swung open. Harry’s secretary had her head turned back to whomever she’d been talking to.

“-sure thing, I’ll tell him now.”

She turned her face to speak to Harry, and stopped at the unexpected sight of Hermione, who was blushing slightly. The secretary’s brow furrowed in mild confusion before her expression smoothed out as she turned to Harry.

“Harry, something’s come up. Robards has called a meeting. Conference Room Three.”

Harry nodded once, sharply. “I’ll be there shortly.” He tried to ignore the sinking pit of disappointment and frustration in his stomach. 

“I’m sorry Hermione. Looks like I can’t sit out this one,” he sighed. Hermione had a pensive look on her face, biting her lip.

“Oh, it’s all right,” she shrugged. “Say, do you have your Invisibility Cloak with you?”

Harry, who’d been hastily gathering his notes together, paused as he looked up at her. Why was she asking about this? The non-sequitur didn’t make sense to him – he had no time to make sense of anything except the meeting right now!

“I always keep it with me,” he said hurriedly as he hefted the stack of notes in his hands. “It’s in my bag.” He tersely pointed it out as he rushed through the door.

* * *

Harry tried not to let his mind drift as the Auror droned on. This had to be important, wasn’t it? Wasn’t that why they’d all been called together?

“- values that we hold dearly as Aurors, as the cream of the crop in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. We _lead_ by example, being incorruptible and doing the right thing regardless of the pressures -“

Harry looked around the table as Williamson droned on. Ron was sitting across him; towards the head of the table, Gawain Robards, old Proudfoot, Savage and other senior Aurors; middle-rank Aurors, most of whom he knew only by sight, and the junior Aurors, namely himself, Ron, and three others, who were sitting in front of him.

Harry felt something tugging at the bottom of his robes. Frowning in confusion, Harry looked down and received one of the biggest shocks of his life.

Hermione’s face was peering up at him from beneath the Invisibility Cloak!

Harry had been about to blurt “Hermione!” when she hurriedly pressed a finger to her lips.

_What is she doing here!_ Harry thought as he tried not to hyperventilate from the shock. Hermione wasn’t allowed, wasn’t supposed to be here, in a meeting only for Aurors –

Harry’s panicked train of thought was interrupted as he felt Hermione’s hand snake underneath his robes and fish around for his crotch.

_Merlin what is she thinking!_

Hermione was very clear on what she thought as a look of triumph came over her face as she found his cock and began to fondle it. Harry gave a shaky breath as his member obligingly stiffened at her touch. He looked up and tried to pretend that nothing untoward was happening; that Hermione wasn’t right there underneath the table, swaddled in the Invisibility Cloak, uncaring of the world of trouble they’d be in if they were caught, of the expulsion she’d receive from the Ministry and the suspension and disciplinary hearing he’d get-

“_Muffliato_,” he heard her whisper.

He felt airiness around his penis as she pulled it out into the open. The unmistakable feel of a wet tongue ran over the head of his cock, making him glance down again in half-terrified arousal.

Hermione had a deceptively innocent expression on her face. Her wide eyes gazed up at him as the swollen pink head of his pulsing cock nestled at her full lips. Her mouth slowly enveloped the head; she kept eye contact as she gradually began swallowing his cock –

Harry tore his gaze away, looking up around at the others. None of them seemed to suspect a thing.

Harry found himself gripping at the table and his chair very tightly as Hermione worked away underneath him. His cock _throbbed_ and _pulsated_ and _jerked_ as Hermione slobbered and suckled on it –

“-and that concludes my talk.”

“Thank you, Williamson,” Robards said drily at the head of the table. He stood up as Williamson took his seat

“Before I proceed,” the Head Auror said, “any thoughts on the themes Auror Williamson discussed? Harry?”

Harry jumped in his seat and Hermione stilled, her mouth still enclosed over his manhood.

“Y-yes?” he squeaked.

“Anything stand out to you?”

Hermione’s illicit oral ministration on his traitorously all-too-willing member stood out the most to Harry in this meeting, but he suspected Robards wouldn’t be too impressed by that observation.

“Well,” he began, as the witch at his feet ran her sinful tongue over his penis and greedily sucked up his copious pre-cum.

“Um - what stood out to me was - was … the values. Yes, values! Of – um.” He was sweating. Merlin, he was _sweating_. Unseen, unbidden, the diabolical witch kept on suckling on his cock.

He felt so hot and bothered. And they were all looking at him. Fuck.

“You know. Of - integrity, of the good jobs we’re all meant to do. Doing the right thing.”

“Thank you, Harry. That is precisely what I liked the most, too.” Robards nodded at him as he returned to expound on the points from Williamson’s ramble.

Relieved, Harry snaked his hand down beneath the table and seized the back of Hermione’s head. Slowly he pressed her face into his crotch, trying not to groan out loud as he felt his cock press at the back of her warm, wet mouth and the feel of her teeth bumping against his member.

“Harry?” he heard someone whisper.

He looked across at the source of the sound. Ron was looking at him with some concern.

“You alright, mate?” he asked in a worried undertone as Robards continued talking at the head of the table.

“Yes, I’m fine. _More_ than fine,” Harry replied through gritted teeth. Ron accepted his answer and returned to the meeting.

Hermione gave a particular hard slurp on Harry’s manhood, almost trying to _pull_ in his whole length even though most of it was in already. The floodgates gave way to the build-up of pressure that had been steadily rising in Harry as he failed to hold in and orgasmed.

Hot dollops of semen _gushed_ into her mouth as Harry tightened his grip in her scalp. He felt his cock repeatedly _push_ at the sides and roof of her mouth as each spurt of relieved release forced its way out of his body.

Unearthly sensations rippled through his member as Hermione happily swallowed the rapid deposits of cum he gifted her.

Drained, Harry slumped against the back of his chair. He risked a peek downwards, and what he saw would stay with him the rest of his life.

Hermione’s mouth was still wrapped around his deflating, enflamed penis; he could still feel her tongue scooping up the remains of his seed, some of which had inadvertently trickled out from her mouth onto her chin. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were alive with lust as she watched him. Finally, the head of his penis came out of her mouth with a _pop_; she tucked it lovingly back inside his robes, and her face disappeared as she drew the Invisibility Cloak back over herself.

* * *

** _Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures_ ** ** _, Ministry of Magic_ **

“You bitch.”

Hermione didn’t look in the least bit contrite.

“Oh come on, you enjoyed it too,” she said saucily, ignoring the look of anger and desire Harry was shooting her.

“Know what I think?” he growled. He didn’t wait for her reply. “I think you need to be punished. Right here and now.”

Hermione felt her body tingle in excitement. _Surely not here –?_

Harry pointed his wand at the entrance to her cubicle, hissing a number of incantations too low for her to hear. Then he grabbed hold of her bushy hair, and pulled. Not so roughly that it hurt, but hard enough that she was forced to comply.

Once on her knees, he jerked her face upwards so that their eyes met. “We won’t be disturbed. Now take off your robes.”

Hermione’s breathed was erratic as she processed his order. His green, green eyes bored down into hers …

She squeaked as he pinged her with a mild Stinging Hex. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

“Yes sir.” She took off the only clothing that kept her from being entirely naked. She shivered. Now she was exposed, completely uncovered, and no one would mistake what was going on if they walked in on her and Harry.

The Man-Who-Lived kicked the discarded robes aside.

“Do you know what you are?” he asked her.

Her heart beat wildly in her chest as she lowered her eyes in submission. Merlin, she was finding this so hot.

“Whatever you want me to be,” she said.

Wrong answer. Harry pulled at her hair again, forcing her back to her feet. “No, you know the real answer. I want you to _tell_ me. I want to hear it from your mouth.”

“A whore,” she whispered, feeling every one of his fingers threaded through her bushy hair. She could feel the arousal trickling down the side of her thigh. “A slut. A wanton, shameless –“

“- bitch.” Harry finished for her. “Now you’re going to make up for what you did to me earlier.”

Harry forced her to her desk, and turned her head back to face him. “Take my cock out.”

Hermione couldn’t obey fast enough. With trembling hands, she struggled to fish Harry’s member out of his robes. Merlin, why did the fabric have to be so difficult to deal with?

She found it hard and ready, and licked her lips as it came out into the open for the second time today. _Such a beautiful cock –_

Harry swiped the stationery and Ministry documents carelessly off her desk and onto the floor. Hermione would have protested at this act of uncaring vandalism to her workspace, but then Harry pulled again and shoved her onto the desk’s surface. She looked up in time to see Harry’s face twisted in a snarl as he loomed over her. Then she gasped as he forced his cock into her. She wiggled her butt as she tried to shift, to adapt to his wonderful manhood as he held her down and began to thrust.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” she panted as she wrapped her legs around his lean, hard torso and tried to pull him in, to feel his shaft penetrate deeper in her slick, wet pussy. Harry bent down and ravished her tits as he pumped away.

Then noises carried down the corridor from outside the cubicle. Harry slowed down as the sound of talking and footsteps became louder and louder.

Harry had said he’d cast the preventative measures, but Hermione couldn’t help feel the spike of fear as what was now unmistakably the voices of the Minister of Magic and the Head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.

Kingsley Shacklebolt and Gethsemane Prickle were deep in discussion and walking closer by the second.

Harry resumed his thrusts in her. She gasped and beat her hand against his chest, trying to get him to stop.

“H-harry,” she squeaked. “They’re here! We got to _stop_!”

“That’s what you get for earlier,” Harry growled, not slowing down in the slightest.

“_Harry!_”

Hermione shut her mouth as she saw with horror that Shacklebolt and Prickle had slowed to a stop right outside the entrance of her cubicle.

She felt her pussy get even wetter. Oh Merlin, she was so finished. So done for.

Hermione shrieked as Harry pulled her up from the desk. She stuffed a fist in her mouth to keep herself from crying out further as Harry turned her to face her superiors, naked as the day she was born.

Numbly, Hermione felt Harry’s cock slide up and down inside her as Prickle – a older witch with medium-length grey hair, and who was now her boss as Head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures – turned her head to look briefly in her cubicle.

Time slowed down to a standstill as Prickle looked right at her. Hermione felt utterly _exposed_. She felt the cool air moving over the goosebumps of her flesh, over her tingling body. She could feel the mixed juices of their arousal sticking to the insides of her thighs. She felt the heat rushing through her face as she stood helpless, utterly exposed in her shameless act. She felt the strong hands of her lover, one she’d rested her head upright against, the other pressing into her belly. She felt every nudge of his powerful cock as it moved within her.

“She’s looking right at you,” whispered the bastard who was fucking her. “Completely naked, and she doesn’t know.”

_Doesn’t know!_ Hermione was speechless. There was no way that Prickle could have missed the sight before her!

But then Prickle’s gaze slid away, and she continued in even tones as she spoke with the Minister.

Hermione let out a shaky breath. It was impossible that her boss could have looked into the cubicle – looked right at them as they shagged in front of her - and seen nothing.

“_Shit_,” she hissed as the first orgasm ripped through her.

She felt Harry’s fingers encircle and fondle her nipples. His breath was hot and rough against her ear.

“What a slut,” he whispered. “You love this, don’t you? You enjoy being watched while you’re fucking.”

“Yes,” she confirmed in a quiet sob.

“Exhibitionist _whore_,” he growled, digging his fingers in her flesh. She felt her pussy tighten at his words.

Now the Minister himself was looking in her cubicle. At them!

Hermione gave an involuntary moan as Harry gathered up one tit in his hand, and _brazenly_ jiggled it at Shacklebolt, who gave no sign of seeing anything at all.

She came again, _hard_. She shook and trembled, gripped helplessly in the throes of her orgasm as she and Harry fucked in front of the oblivious Minister of Magic.

As she came down from her high, she began to hear what they were saying. “… seeing as Hermione seems to be away, tell her what we discussed so that she can be brought up to speed when she returns.”

“That I’ll do, Minister.”

The voices faded as the two moved away. Hermione jerked off Harry and whipped around to face her tormentor. He had a huge smirk on his face, the sheer conceit of which would have befitted Draco Malfoy at the height of his arrogance. She moved to slap him. Harry caught her arm, his speed faster than her own thanks to his Seeker-bred reflexes.

“You bastard,” Hermione growled, before she melted against him, devouring his mouth in a searing, hungry kiss. She didn’t resist as he sheathed himself inside her again, and held him close as he finally came.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really enjoyed writing this chapter! Made it a little longer than usual as a Christmas gift from me to you, dear readers.
> 
> On that note, I'll be away from home for Christmas and New Year's, so I'm not sure whether I'll be able to pump out the next chapter for next weekend. I'll see if I can do something.
> 
> Merry Christmas and happy holidays, all.


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